Best and Worst Day Ever
by lovelyfrances
Summary: Bella breaks down on the side of the road after the worst day possible. Will this horrible day end up having a happy, sexy ending? Only a tattooed, motorcycle riding Edward can answer that question. OOC, AU, fun and sexy times included.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome back. This will be a short one, 4 chapters max.

This one goes out to my BBF Jana.

* * *

"Come on, come on..."

I pushed against the steering as I willed the vehicle to remain operational. The truck sputtered as I pressed hard on the accelerator, causing the engine to roar to life. It inched forward, the RPM gauge as unstable as my current state of emotions. I sighed and wiped the sweat that was dripping down my forehead. The truck hissed.

"Stay with me, you piece of shit," I growled menacingly at the inanimate vehicle. As if it were offended, the engine sputtered again and died completely.

Of course it did.

Just my fucking luck. This was the worst day. Ever.

I took in a deep breath and exhaled, pausing momentarily before I allowed myself to completely lose it.

"Goddamn pile of fucking shit!"

My blood boiled as my "I-told-you-so" reflex kicked into high gear recalling why I was driving this POS.

_I'm sorry Ms. Swan, but we don't have any other vehicles._

_I'm sorry Ms. Swan, but your car is going to take at least a week to repair._

_I'm sorry that the truck isn't the best looking, but she's sturdy and reliable. She'll get you where you need to go._

Even when I protested, this was the best car that they could give me. A Ford something or other from 1950 that likely has to be hand cranked to run properly. I didn't have the money to rent something and I needed a way to get around...at the time.

I woke up late this morning and in a rush to get out the door, I spilled tea all over myself and the packets for my boss' big presentation that I spent five hours the night before preparing. They were, in essence, completely ruined. After stubbing my toe as I was trying to salvage the packets, I ran to my car with the intention of hitting up the FedEx to help me with some quick copies. I turned the key and what do you know?

_Click..._

_Ignite..._

_Sputter._

Car turns, but doesn't start.

After a tow truck was arranged to pick my car up and I got to work via a very expensive cab fare, I come to realize that the whole fucking department is called into a conference room to be told by some suit from corporate that our department is being eliminated. Effective immediately.

Like I said, worst day ever.

I got a ride to the car garage and waited for my car to be repaired, holding in my lap a box filled with a small potted plant and a company branded coffee mug. Six mother loving hours later, they tell me they need a week to fix it.

Presently, I was stuck on the highway, without air conditioning, in dense traffic and ninety degree weather. It was loud due to the sea of engines and one particularly loud motorcycle, I was tired and hungry. And I just lost it.

"Goddamn piece of crap! Fuck you! Fuck you, you no good twat waffle!"

Tears sprung to my eyes as I sighed in defeat, forcefully placing my forehead on the steering wheel in defeat.

"Miss?" A voice called out.

I grunted in response and made no attempt to move.

"Miss? Are you alright?" He called out again. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was just trying to be helpful, but I would not let someone with a smooth as silk voice ruin my pity party of epic proportions.

Tipping my head back with my eyes closed, I yelled, "Does it look like I'm alright?" My head hit the headrest and I continued. "No. I'm not alright. Thanks for asking."

"You're a rather horrible liar," he replied with a mirthful tone. This mirthful tone might have been endearing or funny to anyone else, but I was feeling too defeated to care.

"Well, you're a rather annoying person. So why don't you please just leave me alone?" I sighed, exasperated.  
"Bella, I'm not about to leave a damsel in distress. It would be ungentlemanly of me."

That voice...it oozed into my brain and decided to take over my senses. I wanted to hear it say sexy things, naughty things. The fact, however, that I was stranded on the side of the highway, that this stranger was trying to engage me in conversation and that he knew my name enabled my rational and self-preservation mode.

"Listen, Creeper McWeirdo..."My eyes cracked open and I tilted my head toward the stranger danger. "I don't know who you think you are, but..."

As I turned toward the driver side window, I finally took in the owner of the delicious voice. His eyes were covered by aviator sunglasses and his hair was wild and windblown. A fitted grey v-neck t-shirt covered his nicely toned body but did little to conceal the three-quarter sleeve tattoo that decorated his right arm. And oh Lord, he was the owner of the previously mentioned overly loud motorcycle.

Based on my initial assessment, he earned about ten-thousand sexy points on first impressions alone. Holy hell, this man was delectable. However, my blatant ogling was not long lived.

"You really don't remember me?" he smirked playfully, catching me undress him with my eyes. As I tried in vain to recall this fine specimen, he added, "And what the hell is a twat waffle?"

* * *

Stay tuned! Steaminess to come...I promise.


	2. Chapter 2

Here we go again. Who is this mystery sexy, creepy, tattooed guy? All will be revealed in due time. But for now, let's continue...

Again, shout out to my BBF Jana, without whom I would not have found this fictional world. Love you.

* * *

The funny thing is this was supposed to be a good day. I was supposed to impress my boss with my preparedness, my confidence when working the boardroom, albeit I would do nothing but offer coffee to the other V.P.s. Either way, my intention on this glorious day was that every person that I ran across, for once they'd see me as a savvy, strong and intelligent person instead of the uncertain little girl that most people assumed was me.

I knew I wasn't that girl, but I just wanted the chance to prove them wrong.

Then my day went to shit. Seriously. And in a metaphorical sense, I was the fan and shit was hitting me hard.

The traffic was as congested as I've ever seen it on this stretch of road int he afternoon. There must have been an accident ahead; I assumed that was the only reason for it to be this slow. Cars wheezed and groaned around me, struggling with the extreme heat and idling since Lord knows we aren't moving at all.

All of these thoughts wound through my exhausted brain as I realized that I've been staring at my reflection in sexy-creepy-tattoo-guy's shiny aviators, trying in vain to catch a peek of his eyes hoping that it would help me figure out who this hot-as-hell man was. The sunglasses just reflected my image, which looked positively pathetic. Upon entering this God forsaken truck, I stripped off my business appropriate cardigan and hiked up my skirt mid-thigh to help stop my overactive sweat glands. My hair was twisted low on the nape of my neck, fastened by a Bic pen that I stole out of the supply cabinet before leaving my job for the last time (stealing that pen sure showed them).

A polite person would say that I was glistening with sweat, but that person would have been lying. I was hot and looked miserable.

Ugh. Worst day ever.

God, I got fired, my car broke down and now I was at the mercy of some creep, a sexy creep, that was waiting for me to do something. Did he say something?

I'm pretty sure that I was staring at him like a cow would stare at a new gate. As I furrowed my brow and thought hard about what he asked me, he interrupted my train of thought with that smooth voice again.

"Bella...are you alright?"

For some reason, that did it. I had my fill. I couldn't take it anymore.

I lost my shit. My lip quivered and I could feel the cold sweat descend, as if I needed to sweat further, as the tears uncontrollably welled up.

_No, Bella. Don't. For once, just don't._

In vain, I tried to sniff and I tipped my head back to help halt the onslaught, but that just caused a loud snort to escape in the most unladylike way. Of course, that just caused me to cry harder. Tears did not just well up, they frickin' ran down my cheeks like they had somewhere better to be. I tilted my head toward him and cracked an eye open to see if he was still there. Of course he was - it's not like he could move at all. Coincidentally, he was in the right lane stopped in traffic, conveniently right next to my open driver's side window. I had hoped my tears would scare him off, but his brows wrinkled up and his lips pursed. He looked terribly concerned...and since I could only see my reflection in his glasses, I assumed he was concerned about me.

"Shit, Bella...hang on," he said, focusing back on the motorcycle between his legs. He revved the engine and it shot him forward, maneuvering the bike to park on the side of the road before me. Even through all of my blubbering tears, I couldn't help but appreciate his long legs dismount his shiny, matte black bike. Like any rational woman, I wondered if he was single.

Good idea. Wonder if he's single while you're recreating the Nile River through every facial orifice in a P.O.S. rental truck.

He made haste to the passenger side door and yanked it open with a loud creak. His foot found purchase on the floor of the vehicle and he stopped his entry after he noticed the box sitting on the seat. Gazing thoughtfully into it, I could nearly hear the gears in his head turning.

_Coffee cup._

_Plastic plant._

_Receipt from Bend Over and Take It Auto Repair._

"You got fired today, didn't you?" he whispered, eyes cast downward at the evidence of my termination. I wiped my nose and swallowed, nodding. He must have seen me nod in his peripheral vision. "This isn't your truck, is it?" His eyes rose to meet mine.

I just stared at him for a few seconds before I whimpered in response and nodded once, dropping my head in defeat.

"Oh Bella..." He moved to set the box down on the floor and clambered into the cab of the truck. Reaching his long arm over and across the steering wheel to pop the hood, his left shoulder brushed against my collar bone and his head was less than a foot away from mine. I inhaled and dear baby Jesus, he smelled wonderful.

_Exhaust._

Being a small town girl, what can I say? Damn, the smell of exhaust did it for me every. Single. Time.

He peered back at me after sliding out of the truck and smirked at me. My eyes grew wide in response, knowing that I was caught. Stranger not-so-Danger unlatched the hood and propped it open, activating the international "My Car Flippin' Died" signal. At least he helped with that.

Sexy-creepy-tattoo-guy walked back around to the passenger side and dug inside of my cardboard box. As much as I did not care about what was in there, it was still my stuff. I got protective and reached over and snatched the box away from his deliciously long fingers.

He scowled and I scowled back as I hugged the box close to my chest. He quirked an eyebrow and fished a phone from his front pocket, dialing a number that was listed on a piece of paper in his right hand. I realized that said paper was definitely my receipt from "Bend Over and Take It" Auto Repair.

_Blast!_

He smirked again and languidly licked his lips.

_Jesus._

"Hey, I'm calling on behalf of Bella Swan. She was in this afternoon and someone in your shop deemed the rental truck provided to her was functioning. At this time, she's stuck on the side of the interstate because the engine overheated and there is barely any coolant at all in the fucking thing."

_Wow._

I sat there with my mouth open and just watched him as he continued. "Right, give excuses to your superior after I talk with him myself, not to me. Send someone to pick this pile of crap up. We're leaving it on the east side of the Crosstown Interstate right after Exit 8B."

With that, he hung up his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. I had managed to stop crying, but my eyes were still wet with evidence of my breakdown. He just looked in my direction for a while, standing there with his hands in his pockets. I was so torn. I wanted to yell at this guy for invading my personal space, for being creepy and stalkerish, but I couldn't. All I wanted to do was thank him for doing for me what I obviously didn't have the strength to do on my own. And I wanted to lick him. Everywhere.

It'd been over a year since my last relationship and I hadn't been interested in pursuing anyone or doing anything at all.

Until now. The things that I would do to this man...

Instead of doing anything at this moment in particular, I opted for nothing as usual and I just watched the man before me as he mimicked my actions. I gripped my cardboard box awkwardly and let his eyes consume me.

After an undetermined amount of time, he cleared his throat and set his face, determined. Determined about what, I have no idea. It just made him look more and more lickable.

He held out his hand to me and spoke so quietly, "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

_Hmm._

I could stay here and wait for the tow truck so that I can go home and sulk about my situation properly. That's what any normal person would do. Or for once, I could just do something with some sort of uncertainty. I've always followed the rules and colored within the lines. For once, I could do the stupid, irrational thing.

So I did what any hot blooded woman would do.

I slid timidly toward sexy-creepy-tattoo-guy and took his hand. His mouth lifted into a beautiful half grin as his fingers wrapped around mine, enveloping them. A simple touch from this man set my nerves ablaze and I knew instantly that I was a goner.

Tenderly, he pulled me toward him and my skirt road further up my thighs, leaving little to the imagination. Once I reached him, he smiled easily at me and released my hand to slide his right arm underneath said bare thighs and his left behind my back, picking me up out of the truck. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, steadying myself before he started walking toward his motorcycle, gracefully kicking the passenger door closed behind him.

When we neared his motorcycle, I really didn't know. I was too busy blatantly ogling his face up close. He had a definite five-o'clock shadow and a strong jaw line. His hair was thick and a color that any hairstylist would be jealous of: vibrant browns, sun-kissed dark blonde naturally stuck out and some hints of reds, merging into the most beautiful mess of copper I've ever seen.

That copper color...

I _knew_ that I had seen it before.

He stood before the motorcycle and glanced down at me, speaking quietly into my ear, "Let me take care of you, Bella."

It took not a half of a millisecond for the onslaught of memories to force themselves into my brain.

He said that to me, with Flintstone Band-Aids in hand, at the age of five after I skinned my knee from crashing my bike into a garbage can. That voice uttered those words to me after falling from the apple tree that was grounded in my back yard. It was whispered when he gathered way too much toilet paper for me after I couldn't stop the tears from coming down at the tender age of eight. His parents were moving. And I was convinced that I would never see him again.

Gasping in surprise, I leaned up to hug him to me in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic as he continued to hold me. I could feel him smile against my cheek, as he held me tighter.

"Oh my God, Edward..."

He sighed my name in response, so reverently.

"Bella. You have _no_ idea how much I've missed you."

* * *

Alright. Like I said from the beginning, four chapters max. Hopefully you enjoyed this. Much love!


	3. Chapter 3

Wow - sorry for the delay, kids. I promise to make it worth your wait. Just let me know how I can make it up to you...

* * *

You know that gradual crescendo of emotion that you feel the first time that you hear a fantastic song? Perhaps even when you view a movie that meets and exceeds your expectations? As an extremely lame example, I remember the first time that I heard a Journey song on the radio. I do remember making the assumption that they were overplayed, washed up and gimmicky and were only relevant because of _Glee_.

However, when I heard _Faithfully_ for the first time on some light rock radio station, I cried - snot and tears dripping unashamedly down my face. It might have been my mood at the moment, the environment...something made it so fricking perfect to me.

My reaction was similar at that very second. The absolute shittiest day took a serious turn for the better as Edward, MY Edward, held me gently. He smelled like a man ought to smell: exhaust, sweat and tobacco. He felt like a man ought to feel: firm, tall and comfortable. And he looked like a man ought to look: goddamn delicious and I was a very hungry woman. Ravenous, even.

The sky opened up and decided to downpour while I clung to him as if he would disappear and my desperate fingers were the only thing to keep him there. I tried to think of something intelligent and sexy to say to him so that we could go somewhere else - hopefully together.

"Edward," I turned my lips closer to his ear to whisper over the engines and the rain hitting the concrete.

He responded in kind, whispering so close I could feel the rain ricochet off of his lips against my own skin. "Bella."

I'm pretty sure that my eyes rolled back and I mouthed some type of silent expletive. Jesus, he says my name, JUST my name and I nearly explode.

_It's okay. You can do this. Be alluring. Be interesting. Be compelling._

"I...ummm..." I stuttered.

His head turned into mine more as if more skin touching equaled better hearing ability.

"Yes, Bella?"

Fuck. He said my name again. While giving myself a 'make sure that you're sexy and stuff' pep talk, my word vomit monster decided to take hold and spit out whatever came to mind.

"Edward, I'm really fucking wet."

_THAT is the FIRST thing out of your mouth? Out of anything attractive that can be said, that's what you say Swan?_

_Stupid! _

_Stupid! _

_Stupid!_

Edward cleared his throat after what appeared to be a long span of silence. I tried to recover.

"I mean, it's raining..."

Right. That's what I meant. It's true that I was turned on far more so than should be legally allowed, but my entire body was soaked through and through by this watery onslaught.

"Right." His voice cracked as he spoke. "Right. Let's get out of here," he whispered to me.

Edward set me down in front of his motorcycle, dug through my purse and pulled out my sunglasses that, for some reason, he knew were located there. Grabbing the handlebars and swinging his leg around the bike, he settled himself in the seat. He procured a pair of riding glasses from his pocket and handed me my sunglasses. Before he affixed his sunglasses upon his intimidatingly gorgeous face, he turned to face me and jerked his head up, telling me without words to hop on.

I dumbly followed. I think at this point, I would have followed him anywhere.

Standing in front of the bike, I somehow maneuvered onto the slippery seat even with the stupid skirt that sounded like such a great idea earlier that day. The moment that the skin of my inner thighs surrounded his denim covered hips, Edward adjusted his weight and started the bike. The motor sprung to life at his command, the bike shaking subtly as it ignited. I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his extraordinarily firm stomach and held on tight.

"I live an exit down the freeway," he turned his head to shout over the pouring rain and revving engines. His hand released its grip on the accelerator and caressed my calf. "With the rain, we'll go slowly."

It sounded like more of a promise than anything.

_We'll go slowly._

Damn.

The instant that he began accelerating, the world around us changed. The traffic started to move, allowing us to at least get off on the next exit ramp. Waiting for the light to turn green, the sky unloaded its fury even more than before. I gripped Edward's waist tighter.

Edward turned to me and yelled, "My apartment is about five blocks south. Hang on tight - rain on a motorcycle is a bitch!" Water fell all over his face as he spoke - down his cheek and nose and over his lips. I envied those raindrops as I swallowed hard.

Per his instruction, I pulled myself so close that I completely conformed to his body, wrapping my arms securely around his waist and settling my head against his upper back. Once the light turned green, he maneuvered as quickly as he could without putting us in danger, but the goddamned traffic lights stopped us every block.

At the first stoplight, the rain started to pelt us as it began blowing sideways. Balancing the motorcycle between his legs, he leaned back and brushed his hands over my slick legs in an attempt to ease the sting from the rain. A brush turned into a caress and both hands slid over my skin, lingering on the inside of my knees.

The light turned green and I gripped him hard, bracing myself against the weather. A block down the street the stoplight did its job and halted our journey. The bad part was it happened at every single stoplight. The good part was the caress. He would lean back slightly, brush my skin and tease me. It was a steady continuation of slow torture, teasing, and foreplay. Just by touching my skin. I began to look forward to the lights turning yellow. This man was setting me on fire.

_Stoplight. Caress. Ignite._

I rested my head against his back, silently encouraging him to continue.

_Stoplight. Caress. Ignite._

I gripped his shirt and held in a moan.

_Stoplight. Caress. Ignite._

My thighs squeezed together on their own accord as I tried to shift myself closer to his body. He leaned back slightly in acknowledgement, the burning need was obviously resonating through him as well. I couldn't hold in the moan this time.

I don't think I could take one more stop light. I'd explode.

He pulled his motorcycle to the right found a parking spot. With the motor running, he told me to dismount and wait against his apartment building. I jumped off of the bike and ran across the sidewalk where I found some relief from the rain under a shallow awning. I pulled off of my sunglasses, wiped the water from my face and flipped the hair away from my eyes and waited.

Edward turned off the ignition and pushed out the kickstand, settling the motorcycle against the concrete. His riding glasses were thrown haphazardly in the compartment below his seat when he turned to me and just stared. In the pouring rain, he just fucking stared at me.

Looking down at myself, I realized that my work professional attire did not do well in this kind of monsoon-type weather. It was not only drenched and clingy, it was downright translucent. There was very little to the imagination.

My face turned bright red as the mortification set in.

_Maybe he didn't REALLY notice,_ I justified.

I raised my head and was in awe of what I saw. It was Edward, my Edward, but his jaw was clenched and his fingers were twitching. He continued to gaze unabashedly at me - down my legs, up my torso, focusing on my breasts before finally returning those gorgeous eyes to mine. The look on his face was one that I definitely recognized. It was the same look that I had on my face earlier that evening - hunger. He was as ravenous as I was.

Before I could give it any additional thought, his mouth twitched slightly, just slightly, as he lifted an eyebrow and swallowed.

Then he started to walk toward me.

As I pushed myself from the wall, my mission was before me. He was beyond intense and I matched him step for step. The moment our bodies collided in the middle of a severe thunderstorm, I turned my head up and licked the water running down his neck. Then we both moaned, aloud, the same goddamn words.

"Fuck yes."

* * *

Ahhhh...the dreaded cliffhanger. Hang tight, kids. I won't leave you hanging for that long next time. The next, final chapter will be as one of the great FF authors said: "There will be sex...and it will be hot."


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